


Bird On the Wire

by ShayneyL



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s05e09 Thirty Days, Gen, Leonard Cohen - Freeform, Merry Month of Cohen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 13:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18692512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShayneyL/pseuds/ShayneyL
Summary: Harry was the only friend to visit Tom while he was in the brig.  Tom finds out why.





	Bird On the Wire

**Author's Note:**

> For the Star Trek x Leonard Cohen Fandom Event, May 2019.
> 
> Characters and situations owned by Paramount/Viacom. Used without permission. No copyright infringement intended.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

_For like a baby, stillborn_  
_Like a beast with his horn_  
_I have torn everyone who reached out for me_  
_But I swear by this song_  
_And by all that I have done wrong_  
_I will make it all up to thee_

  
               Ensign Tom Paris arrived in sickbay a few minutes early for his shift, coffee cup in hand. It wasn't like him to be early, but he'd tried to be on his best behavior since his demotion. It was the least he owed his shipmates. 

        Sighing, Tom settled at the desk in the sickbay office. He took a swig of coffee, then checked the computer terminal, to see who was avoiding their routine checkup this week. 

        The name at the top of the list jumped out at him: _Kim, Harry S. L._ His best friend. The computer had sent Harry an automated message telling him to schedule his annual physical, which he'd read and deleted without responding. Tom shook his head. Harry had always hated going to the doctor. Tom didn't blame him; he'd had a pretty horrifying experience as a kid. Harry was in all likelihood healthy as a horse, and Tom briefly considered letting it slide...but regulations were regulations, and Tom had already broken more than his share of them lately.

        "Paris to Kim."

        "Kim here. Go ahead." Tom guessed Harry was on the bridge, or the reply would have been something more casual, like "Hi, Tom."

        "Mr. Kim, please report to sickbay," Tom said, keeping with Harry's formal tone. "You are overdue for your annual physical."

        "No, I'm not," Harry said. "I had it..." He paused. "Just a couple of weeks ago," he finished. Carefully not saying "While you were in the brig."

        Odd. Tom supposed it could be a clerical error. He wasn't going to accuse Harry of lying to get out of his annual physical. Not when he was on the bridge, anyway, and not without proof. "Okay, Har, must have been overlooked. I'll straighten it out."

        He accessed Harry's medical file...and was shocked to see Harry had recently had an extensive stay in sickbay. What the...? Some kind of injury, it seemed. 

        "Doc," he called. 

        The Doctor emerged from the lab. "What it is, Mr. Paris?" he said, irritated at being disturbed.

        "What happened to Harry?" Tom asked. "Why was he in sick bay earlier this month?"

        "Mr. Paris, do the words 'medical confidentiality' mean nothing to you? It's none of your business, unless you are treating the patient. Which you weren't, since you were in the brig."

        "Harry didn't come in for his annual physical. He said he already had it. I just checked his records to make sure he wasn't trying to squirm out of it."

        "Ah," the Doctor said. "My mistake. I forgot to add it to his file. I was programmed for medical emergencies, not routine record keeping. Mr. Kim is correct. I gave him a thorough examination before releasing him. He needn't come in for another year. Unless there's a medical problem, anyway. Which, given his history, seems..."

        "What happened?" Tom demanded.

        "Very well. I suppose you should know, since you are the chief medic." The Doctor came over to the desk where Tom was sitting. "It was that attack. The same one you were injured in."

        Tom remembered. "What, did Ensign Culhane's _brilliant evasive maneuvers_ knock Harry down or something?"

        "No," the Doctor replied. "We took some damage. Ensign Kim was working on repairs when a conduit exploded."

        _Damn_. "How bad was it?"

        "To be blunt, we almost lost him," the Doctor replied. He began reciting a list of Harry's injuries. 

        Tom interrupted him. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

        "I assumed Mr. Kim would tell you if he wanted you to know," the Doctor answered. He paused. "Mr. Paris, didn't you wonder why Ensign Kim was the only friend allowed to visit you while you were in the brig?"

        Tom hadn't, and now he felt stupid. He wasn't supposed to be allowed visitors. How had Harry managed to get permission to visit, when even B'Elanna couldn't? "I just assumed...well, Harry can be extremely persistent."

        "That he can," the Doctor agreed. "He had been pestering the Captain to allow him to visit. Then after he was injured...he kept asking for you. We weren't sure he would survive. The Captain told him she would allow a visit if...when he got better."

        "She granted his deathbed request," Tom realized.

        The Doctor did not deny it. "Well, as it turned out, Mr. Kim did not die, thanks to some brilliant and innovative medical care, but yes, I guess you could say that was the situation."

        "Harry," Tom breathed. And after all that, he ended up kicking Harry out. Damn it. Damn it all to hell.

# # # # # #

        After shift, Tom tracked Harry down in his quarters.

        "Come," Harry called at Tom's signal. 

        Tom went in, to find Harry sitting at his desk, fiddling with his clarinet.

        "What are you doing?" 

        Harry finished assembling his clarinet. "It's Baytart's lucky day," he said. "I designed a mute." He played a quick scale. The mute appeared to be effective. The sound was not even half as loud as usual. "One that actually works, and doesn't change the playing characteristics. Hey, maybe I can try a louder instrument now, like the saxophone, without Baytart hunting me down and throwing me out an airlock in the dark of gamma shift."

        He played a snippet of music, then looked up at Tom. "What brings you here, Tom? I thought you and B'Elanna would have a lot of catching up to do."

        Tom went and sat in his usual spot on Harry's couch. "She's busy this evening." He shrugged. "We had a date last night."

        Harry put down his clarinet, and came to sit beside Tom. "How are you doing?" he asked.

        "You were right, Har," Tom said. 

        Harry raised a quizzical brow. 

        "About my not finishing things," Tom continued. "I finished the letter to my dad, and put it in the queue to send."

        "That's great, Tom." Harry's smile was warm enough to melt a class-P planet. 

        Tom continued. "And I'm sorry for kicking you out. You were the only friend to come visit me, and to be honest, I was desperate for visitors. I'm a jerk."

        "No, you're not. You were under stress. I understood. It's not like I didn't ask for it."

        Tom studied his friend carefully. Harry looked fine. No signs of any ill effects from his near-fatal accident. His medical records had said as much, but it was good to see it for himself. He found himself wondering what would have happened if Harry hadn't survived his injuries. Would they have let Tom out of the brig to say goodbye? At least postponed the funeral until his sentence was up? Or only told him about it afterwards?

        "What?" Harry said, not understanding why Tom was staring at him.

        "Harry...when were you going to tell me that little detail about you almost dying while I was in the brig?"

        "Almost...what?"

        "You know, the reason you don't need that routine physical."

        "Come on, it wasn't that bad. I'm fine now."

        Did Harry not realize how seriously he'd been injured, or was he trying to downplay it, to spare Tom's feelings? "You should have told me!"

        "I didn't want to worry you. There was nothing you could have done."

        Except not be in that damned cell to begin with. "I'm sorry," Tom said. "I should have been piloting, not Culhane. I should have been working in sickbay, not sitting in the brig." 

        Harry put a hand over Tom's. "You did what you thought was right. Culhane did great, and the Doc was fine while you were...away. Nobody died. It's okay."

        "I was irresponsible. It's not going to happen again, Harry. I promise."

        Harry squeezed Tom's hand, then changed the subject. "Hey, let's celebrate your freedom. How about a pizza and a couple of beers? My treat."

        Tom's mouth watered at the thought. A month of leola root stew and similar fare left him craving real food. "Sounds fantastic. But I'm paying."

        "But..." Harry didn't say it, but Tom knew what he was thinking. Tom wouldn't be getting any replicator rations this month. Part of his punishment. 

        "Please. Let me," Tom said. He had enough in his account to pay for dinner, and wanted to...needed to.

        Harry hesitated, a million protests in his eyes. But he only said, "All right. Thanks."

        Tom went to the replicator to order the meal. It wouldn't come close to making it up to Harry, but at least it was something. 


End file.
